


My Only Friend

by laredla



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, hhahahahahhahahaha, lil fluff, mentions of of injuries from fighting- nothing too graphic, mitch is youngr here- u can tell bc freddie, sure y not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laredla/pseuds/laredla
Summary: Sometimes, Freddie can go overboard with the teasing.They may fight like cats and dogs but they're still brothers.





	My Only Friend

**Author's Note:**

> i'm dead insid e
> 
> thx @abakkus @mars @lethalteapot
> 
> they were my betas n witnisses of my. pain.
> 
> LE belongs to mars, so do th e characters, ddduh

Mitch hates Mondays.

That’s his excuse for beating up his classmate. It’s a great one, he thinks. Monday shoots his weekend relaxation in the face and it sucks. Besides, this kid stepped on his shoes and didn’t even apologize.

Clearly this asshole had it coming.

He oughta beat him up  _ twice _ for selling him out, too.

The principal’s office is quiet and boring and Mitch can’t help but swing his legs a little on the chair he’s been forced into. Minutes go by and he hears the door knob. He turns around and is greeted by the sight of the principal making his way into the office, probably to yell at Mitch.

“Your brother is on his way.” 

Mitch grimaces. 

“I’m going to hand a letter to your parents off to him. They’re to sign it and bring it back.”

Mitch can’t help the slip of words. “What for?”

The principal eyes him. “So they’re aware of your recent behavior.”

The unpleasant conversation ends there.

In all honesty, Mitch couldn’t give a flying fuck about getting in trouble. Being stuck in this office, though…  _ torture. _

Mitch crosses his arms and slouches down on the chair, his feet planted on the floor. He glares at the principal, who’s paying much more attention to the papers he’s shuffling than to Mitch.

A loud knock startles him, and then Freddie enters the office, a stern look on his face.

The principal waves him closer and they discuss boring things like boring adults. Mitch only catches a few random words.

“…absolutely unacceptable…”

“…could even be expelled if….”

“…there needs to be change in the way he…”

Yes, tuning out is a good idea.

After what seems like hours, Freddie nods, takes the slip, and heads out the door. He expects Mitch to follow. Mitch knows because he turns his back to him almost immediately.

_ Great. _

He pushes himself out of the chair and trudges after Freddie.

 

* * *

 

The moment they’re outside, Freddie lets Mitch have it.

He laughs obnoxiously out of nowhere and pats Mitch heavily on the back. “Ya really fucked up this time, didn’t ‘cha?”

He’s amused.

Mitch just wipes his nose with his sleeve, furrowing his eyebrows and keeping up with Freddie as they trek home.  

Eventually, Freddie’s laughter dies down. He clears his throat. “Th’ hell were you thinking though? You’re in enough trouble as is; you gotta throw down with every damn kid in that building, too?”

Mitch continues looking down but mutters, “Maybe if they didn’t fuck with my—”

“Language, ya lil’ shit.” Freddie cuts in. Mitch rolls his eyes, prompting Freddie to give him the  _ wanna test me? _ look.

Mitch sighs.

“Maybe if they didn’t  _ mess _ with me, this wouldn’t a’ even happened.”

Freddie stares at him. “What  _ did _ happen?”

Mitch remains silent.

_ Guess he’s not talkin’ _ , Freddie thinks.

“Ya gotta stop getting so pissed all th’ time, just hang out with your little friends n’ mind your own damn business.”

Mitch huffs. “…Everyone’s dumb.”

Freddie’s response comes slow.

“What d’you mean?”

Mitch’s face shows clear disgust. “They’re stupid. M’ not gonna hang out with some lame assholes.” His shoulders are hunched and he refuses to face Freddie.

Freddie almost scolds him for cursing.

Almost.

He walks in front of Mitch, forcing him to stop.

“You don’t got any friends, do ya?”

Mitch freezes.

He whips his head up to look Freddie in the eye with indignation. “You’re not—you dunno anything, shut the hell up!”

Freddie smirks.

“What, you’re all alone in there? Maybe it’s because you’re a dick to every other kid that they don’t give ya another chance—”

“M’ not alone, I’m..!” Mitch doesn’t seem to have anything to follow up with and throws a frustrated glare to the ground.

Freddie scoffs, almost laughing. “No wonder ya get into so much shit, y’don’t have anyone holding ya back,” He nods to himself after a beat. “Or even anyone to  _ watch _ your back!”

Mitch’s hands ball up into fists. “I don’t need nobody!”

“And y’know what, it’s because a’ shit like  _ this _ ya keep pulling that ya don’t have any friends—”

“Fuck off,” Mitch growls at him. “Just fuck off.”

Freddie snaps. “What did I just fuckin’ say about langua—” He falters at the sight of Mitch’s downcast face.

He’s so used to seeing his little brother retaliate with curses and punches, wild flails and attacks. Seeing Mitch actually upset is more than a little unsettling.

He’s about to break the silence, but Mitch beats him to it.

“ _ Asshole.” _

Mitch runs off ahead of Freddie in the direction of the trailer park.

Freddie frowns after him. That probably could’ve gone better.

 

* * *

 

 

Freddie makes it home a little behind Mitch. He walks through the door, expecting something to be thrown at him or at least to be cursed out.

Instead, he gets heavy silence.

That same silence lingers for the rest of the night; Mitch doesn’t even show his face for dinner.

It’s not much different in the morning.

He grabs toast and bacon and calls out to Mitch that they’re out of eggs. He doesn’t get a response.

He can’t stay angry forever, right?

The question lingers for the rest of the day.

He’s at lunch with a friend, caught up in his own concerns until he hears, “Shit, man, I gotta go help my brother out with something.” 

Freddie nods absentmindedly. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

They bump fists and his friend is gone, leaving Freddie drowning in thought.

Should he apologize? Mitch  _ has _ been getting into too much shit as it is. Maybe it serves him right.

He almost grimaces.

Maybe…

 

* * *

 

 

Freddie is already busying himself at the kitchen table after school, devouring leftover chicken, when he sees Mitch drag his feet through the door. He’s hanging his head.

“Yer late,” Freddie says through a mouthful. “Wherf ya been?”

Mitch still hasn’t looked up. He  _ can’t _ still be angry from yesterday, what the hell?

He finishes chewing. “Hey, I’m talkin’ to you,”

Mitch looks up and reveals a bloody nose and black eye. Freddie gulps down the chicken quickly.

It’s no surprise that he’s fucked up like this; his little brother picks fights like no tomorrow.

What’s strange is that he’s not… himself. It reminds him of when they discussed Mitch’s friendship dilemma. No bragging, no winning smiles or even angry scowls, no complaints about how the other kid cheated and brought a stick.

Nothing.

Just a deep frown.

…Maybe he wasn’t the one that picked the fight this time.

“What happened?” He starts out carefully.

Mitch’s frown deepens. “Like you fuckin’ care.” He makes a beeline for the bathroom before Freddie can even get a word out.

Once again, Freddie is left alone at the table.

He almost chases after Mitch, almost goes to chastise him about what a disrespectful little shit he’s being, almost demands to know what’s wrong.

_ Almost _ , but hesitates when wandering thoughts take over.

If Mitch didn’t pick the fight, was it a flat-out beating? Have all the kids he’s fucked with finally formed an alliance to kick his shit in? In that case, does he deserve it? Wouldn’t he be pissed rather than upset?

Questions float but are briskly cut off at the sound of Mitch sniffing loudly.

He doesn’t know what to do to help without somehow making it worse.

He sits back down and stares at his plate of chicken.

“…Fuck.”

 

* * *

 

 

It no longer surprises Freddie to see Mitch avoiding him the next morning like the plague. What  _ does  _ surprise him is finding Mitch awake, bright and early, staring at his reflection in the bathroom.

Freddie discreetly sneaks a peak.

The black eye looks even worse than when he got home yesterday.

“Hey.”

Mitch is startled and gives him the stink eye before slamming the door shut.

No progress.

Great.

He vaguely considers waiting him out, but knowing Mitch, he’d rather skip the whole school day than come out of the bathroom to face Freddie.

 

* * *

 

The repetitiveness of his school life comes to a crashing halt.

It had been almost agonizingly boring until he overhears his friend on the phone.

“Dude, this fuckin’ kid jumped my little brother, of course I had to return the favor,” he laughs.

Freddie, however, does not laugh.

“He sent the text yesterday, I finished the job the same day! That little fuck won’t mess with him anymore.”

He probably feels proud of himself.

Freddie feels proud of himself too, especially when his fist manages to draw a bloodcurdling  _ crack _ from his friend’s nose.

 

* * *

 

 

**** School is already absolute bullshit, but this is ridiculous.

Mitch is on heavy alert, constantly looking over his shoulder, anxious.

Yesterday, the older kid that had jumped him, probably around Freddie’s age, had really messed him up good. What if he came back?

Mitch considers himself strong, but this guy must’ve had super powers. It was his fight to lose.

_ If I had powers, I woulda’ killed that guy. _

He grumbles to himself.

He then proceeds to jump a foot in the air when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Fuck—!”

He immediately steels himself when he realizes it’s the dumbass that got him in trouble for fighting him a few days ago.

“Th’ hell d’you want?”

The kid bristles. “Dude, what the fuck? Tell your brother to stay the hell away from us!”

Needless to say, Mitch is confused.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Your brother! He’s fucking insane! He almost sent my bro to the hospital! All he did was rough you up a little—”

_ Wait. _

_ …what? _

Mitch feels anger bubble up inside of him at the realization that  _ you fucking sent your brother to beat my ass?  _ But his mind stops like a record.

“…My brother fought yours for beating me up?”

The kid is in hysterics. “Yeah! The fucking psycho with stupid sideburns and puffy, red hair! Tell him to back the fuck off! My bro will leave you alone but—” He seems to hold his breath. “Just—fuck, leave us alone.”

He’s gone before Mitch can do anything about it.

Mitch decides to go home.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s past noon when he makes it to the trailer park. He sees Freddie sitting at the door, waiting.

Mitch wordlessly makes his way over and plops down next to his older brother. He sneaks a glance and notices Freddie sporting a black eye much like his own.

Neither say anything.

Eventually, Mitch lazily lifts his fist and lands a half-hearted punch to Freddie’s arm, which is more like a solid push.

It pulls a chuckle out of him. “That was fuckin’ weak.”

A familiarly mischievous grin spreads across Mitch’s face.

He reels back and plants his fist square into Freddie’s chest, drawing a grunt out of him. “Oh,  _ now _ ya done it—”

He grossly snorts back mucus and spits onto his pointer finger, holds onto Mitch and—

“Ugh, wait—!”

—sticks the saliva-covered finger into Mitch’s ear.

_ “ _ **_Freddie_ ** _!!” _

**Author's Note:**

> mars ttook my heart, rippd it out, n then ate it 4 dinner.


End file.
